Mwa ha! I am updating again! *happy rum dance* ©®™ (yes, though I did not invent the happy rum dance ((Jack did! Whoot!)) I did, however, begin using it regularly instead of just the *happy dance* so it's mine!?)


*happy rum dance*©®™


J. Liha: *shifty eyes* Just where did you think it was going, I want to know. Yes, and poor Christine....^_^


Child of the Gods: Thanks. And.....here's an update!


Eva: Reviewer # 30! *huggles* Yay! Love you so much! Thankies!



And, of course, as always, I own nothing but a picture of Johnny and Orli right above my bed....no money, no pirates, just dreams.



***********



Murderous thoughts were dancing through my head as I made my way for the wharf. It wasn't a very long trip fortunately, seeing as the prison was conveniently close to the docks. I think that was so it was less of a trip when bringing pirates in.


Jack was amazing. Will was amazing too, although he lacked that special....Jack-ness. But right at that moment, I wanted to skewer them. Okay, so maybe not skewer them, per se, but I certainly wanted to see them squirm. I mean, the nerve. Bad luck to have a woman on board, indeed. Well, we'll see about that, shall we?


The best part about knowing what was going to happen was the sweet knowledge that they weren't going to be stupid enough to try and take the Dauntless. Yes, they were going to take it on a joy-ride of sorts, but it wasn't permanent.


Instead, I headed over to the dock where the Interceptor was docked, soldiers marching in and out like red ants, carrying a variety of supplies. Now, all I had to do was get on that ship somehow.


I needed a distraction, and I needed it now.



***



"Oh! It's horrible! Horrible!"


Natty and neat white wigs snapped in my direction all over the dock. And there I stood, looking like I might fall over any moment (Thank you, corsets!), hair a mess, face red. "That - that pirate!"


One of the more intelligent looking soldiers leapt forward. "What about a pirate, miss?!"


"That foul Sparrow creature! He - he's escaped! I only just escaped him!" I tried to make it look like I was about to burst into tears any second. Like I'd want to escape Jack. Really.


"Which way did he go?" the lead soldier demanded, even as all the other soldiers around him snapped to attention, dropping cargo, grabbing guns. There was no way the near ravaging of an innocent young girl was going to go un-avenged.


"That - that way," I whimpered, pointing towards the Governor's house.


They thundered past me, leaving only a few soldiers behind - those few continued guarding the ship and carrying trunks and boxes on board. "Here," one of the few left behind said to me kindly, leading me to a large, heavy looking chest. "Have yourself a sit down. Would you like a spot of tea, per'aps?"


An idea came to me, and I had to smirk. "That would be lovely. Thank you."


As he hastened off to get me a 'spot of tea', I quickly stood. Checking to make sure noone was looking my way, I popped the chest open. Inside....had to be at least 50 bottles of.....rum.


"Ah well, it'll serve Jack right," I whispered, and began pulling bottles out of the trunk. They were deposited under the dock - fortunately it was close enough to the water that they didn't make that big of splashes. Finally, I had emptied the chest and was about to dump the last bottle over too, when I paused. "Aw, I can save him one bottle."


I know. I'm a softy.


Checking once more to make sure no one was watching me, I stepped into the trunk, pulling my knees up to my chin, shoving my skirt in around me, and tucking the bottle of rum between my knees and torso. Taking a corner of my dress, I folded it up, and tucked it into the hinges of the lid. Lowering my head down into the trunk, I let go of the lid to let it thunk back down - but because of my dress in the hinge, it didn't lock shut.


Grinning to myself, I wriggled into a slightly more comfortable fetal position. The inside of the trunk smelled kinda odd - rum-ish smelling, I think. Ah well, I was feeling darn proud of myself for having come up with this all by myself. I knew I could be creative!


I didn't have to wait long, before I heard the clumping of approaching British soldier footsteps. "This one?" One of the voices asked, and another replied.


"The captain wants this one in his office, I believe."


"Right," the other voice agreed, and it took a severe biting of my tongue to keep from yelping when the trunk was quite suddenly - not all that smoothly - lifted off the dock. For about a minute, there was only the rather sickening swaying of the trunk and the grunts of the two men carrying it, then there was an even more sickening drop and thud as the trunk I was in was dropped without ceremony what I could only assume was the deck of the Interceptor.


"That's a mite heavy," the first voice panted, sounding exhausted.


Nice way to make snide comments about a lady's size, gentlemen.


"We'll just rest a moment," the second gasped, sounding as tired. "Then we need to bring this into the captain's quarters."


"Right then. Why - will you look at that! The latch isn't quite caught!" Oh...no.... "Fancy seeing what the captain keeps in his personal stores?"


I found myself shaking my head furiously. No, no! Do not open the box!


"Private Roach!" the second voice snapped. "You are out of line! Under no circumstances should you be suggesting such a thing!"


I suddenly loved soldier number two.


"Alright, then." Roach grumbled, sounding most put-out. "Then we'd better close the fool thing."


NO!


Too late. He pressed down hard on it, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping beyond anything that the corner of my dress would hold it open. "It's not - ahh!" There was a soft ripping noise, then the distinctive click as the lip snapped shut.


I was locked in. I was locked in a rum chest!?!


Don't panic. Don't panic. Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanic.....


The litany ran through my mind, but it didn't really seem to be doing me much good. Instead I lay there, in the darkness, convinced that I was never going to see the light of day again. I was going to die in here, just me and my lone bottle of rum. Would I starve to death? Or maybe I'd suffocate in here. Heck, maybe I'd luck out. Maybe Jack would rescue me. Yeah, you just keep thinking that.


Sudden shouts broke my concentration on the rather morose subject. Shouts of "They've taken the ship! Sparrow and Turner! They've taken the Dauntless!"


And then came the thundering footsteps of soldiers as they raced up the dock, up the gangway, and onto the deck. Suddenly there was a cacophony around my small (and admittibly stuffy) prison, soldiers running and shouting, but still I heard one voice say "There are too few of you here! Where are the rest?"


"They went after Sparrow, sir," another voice replied, even as I felt the unmistakable shift as the Interceptor moved away from the dock. "He attacked a young miss, sir, and we they went to intercept him-"


"Fine!" the one who seemed to have more authority made a sound of disgust. "We'll deal with that later. Move!"


There was a sudden clamor, and suddenly that authoritative voice rang out again. I realized, with a start, that that was actually Commodore Norrington. "Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!"


There was the fading sound of footsteps that told me that Norrington's men were doing as was told, when there came the solid thunk of two pairs of feet landing firmly on the deck of the Interceptor. Those two pairs of feet split off, and within moments, I heard the sound of swords cutting boarding ropes, then the crack of the sails as they filled with wind. The Interceptor was sailing.


"Sailors!" The slightly panicked voice of Norrington, now fading away slightly, nearly made me laugh. "Back to the Interceptor! Now!"


"Quickly men!" Another shouted, and I heard the splashes of several unsuccessful boarders.


"Thank you, Commodore," Jack's intoxicating voice called, half-mocking. "For getting us ready to make way. We'd have a hard time of it by ourselves!"


There was more myriad shouting from the other ship, and, dimly, the sound of a crunching lifeboat being destroyed under the prow of a much larger Dauntless. Laughter rang out from Jack, and the hesitant laughter of Will joined a few moments later.


"The looks on their faces!" Jack chortled, sounding for all the world like a proud pirate captain he was. "This, my boy, calls for celebration."


"Celebration?" Will repeated, sounding much more hesitant, but already there came the sound of Jack randomly opening boxes and barrels, using his sword where a knot or a nail impended his progress.


Half of me desperately wanted Jack to open my trunk - not only would I be rescued, but I'd be rescued by him. The other half really didn't want him to open the chest - then he'd know I snuck aboard, and I really didn't want to know what Jack was like when he was angry.


Unfortunately, that particular decision was not up to me, and the Fates seemed to be in a particularly vengeful mood.


Sunlight flooded into my cramped prison, and, blinking, I looked up to see the wide-eyed face of one Captain Jack Sparrow.


Grinning as best I could, I held the last bottle of rum up.


"Rum?"






Hey people! I want 50 reviews now! That's my goal! My job is to write, your job is to review, so now that I've done my job, go out there and do yours!


Savvy?